Run, Run, From These Halls of Stone
by Luna Tiger
Summary: Exactly what happened nine years before the game in the world Ansem ruled? What lead to its destruction and how did the characters get scattered? Pseudo-A/U, future shounen-ai, 2nd prologue up.
1. Antelogium Unum

  
  
**Disclaimer**: The rock-hard, very hot characters belong to Squaresoft; the fluffy-soft, very cute characters belong to Disney. If I owned Kingdom Hearts, I've made Sephiroth easier. ^^v Just to spite my girlfriend by calling him a puppy. :D Huzzah! 

Light, light **shounen-ai**, SPOILERS. Other FF characters added. Slight AU, meaning whatever's in here is my opinion, and may or may not be true to the actual game (because I've beaten the game, but I sort of believe there was still many unanswered questions). So no fingers saying, "But that's not right! Such-and-such happened and Cloud's searching for Aerith!" XP Fuu. My imagination, my story. 

* * *

Run, Run, From These Halls of Stone  
{ Antelogium Unum }

"H-hey! Yuffie! Squall! Get back here!" 

The two young delinquents, one seven and the other sixteen, only turned their bright, mischievous faces before running off, and Locke Cole fell to his knees, panting. How many times had he been stuck taking care of Laguna's brats? Why was he stuck with /them/, of all tortures?? To stretch one's limbs on the rack was less painful. "If you two kids don't get back here," he cried out feebly, "then I'm telling Sir Laguna about that cat!" 

There was no reply and the sandy-haired man groaned loudly, shoulders slumping down. "Oh man, why me??" 

There was a light chuckle behind him; he bent backwards to see who it was. The flipped image of a smiling Terra Branford graced his sight, who laughed slightly louder when Locke fell onto his back in embarrassment. "Miss-Miss Terra!" 

The woman with cascading green wore a face of high amusement as Locke scampered to get onto his feet and look dignified. "Hello, marauder." 

He didn't bother to correct her; instead, his cheeks flushed. "What brings you this deep into the castle, m'lady?" 

"Sir Laguna sympathizes with you and I volunteered to offered to lightly unburden your punishment...if you would allow me to assist you in rounding up Squall and Yuffie?" 

Locke held his breath. _Miss Terra?? Help /me/?! What do I do, whatdoIdo?!_ He opened his mouth to speak, but the only sounds to roll off his tongue were small, choking noises. 

"Hey Locke! You look like a fish out of water!" 

"Locke and Terra sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!" 

The two voices sent the hairs on his nape to stand on end, and Locke swung around just in time to watch the two terrors duck back into the doorway they had emerged from. "You-you.. you disrepectful little monsters!" he cried, waving his arms about frantically. "Do not insult Miss Terra like that!" 

Terra, on the other hand, blushed as Yuffie sang the age-old chant and put her hand to her face to hid the pink tints. It was easy to flirt with and tease Locke, but when others teased back.. well.. Terra cleared her throat, rotating Locke's attention back onto her. She smiled slightly. "I don't think they'll respect you if you call them 'monsters', Locke. Maybe if you were nicer...?" 

Locke's eyes nearly crossed. "No offense, m'lady, but I can be nice all I want; they'll still run me ragged." 

The green-haired maiden nodded in acknowledgement and grasped his hand to lead him down the hall. "We can still try. Come on, marauder, let's go find your wayward quarry." 

Locke followed silently, his face hot enough to sizzle eggs. 

* * *

Several pairs of eyes were wide and impressed with the display of control and power as two swords, ridiculously different as night and day, whistled through the air and clashed with the sound of thunder and silver. They were living extensions of their wielders, alive and vivid with strength that transended words. Only actions were wanted, only free movement was desired. 

Thrust, guard, swipe...the dance was hardly describable, but dazing in a true testament of acquired skill. But it all ended a single moment, where the long sword, as long as its owner, flew threw the air as its grip was released, and the broadsword's tip pointed at a pale Adam's apple. 

A burst of applause rounded the clearing and Zachary Loire, younger brother to the famed knight Laguna Loire, turned fox eyed on his opponent, shouldered the oversized slab of steel, and tapped the floor with a heavily booted foot, grinning triumphantly. The pale man across from him, Sephiroth Valentine, smiled wearily back and wiped the sweat from his brow. 

They couldn't have been any more different than black and white. They were barely two years apart in age and never seen out of the other's company, as though they were physically joined. Best of friends, partners, and one trying to help the other obtain what the first already gained: knighthood. 

And one child looked upon them, green with envy at the ease of their bout. The way they moved was like water being poured, fire raging, and wind spiraling into a storm. How he wished he could be like that, graceful and perfect, with no limitations or restrictions on the soul... 

"Will you be like that one day, Cloud?" 

Startled out of his reverie, the blonde teen snapped his attention to his companion. "Huh?-- What d'you say, Aerith?" 

Aerith Gainsborough giggled, like it was a joke, and shook her head, dismissing him with a wave. "Nothing, it's nothing. Don't worry about it." 

Cloud nodded, undoubtedly baffled over what she said, but decided to forget and locked his eyes back to the contrasting pair on the field with an expression of commitment and longing. 

The Way of the Knight seemed like a dream come true, in Cloud's eyes. You had strength, defense, a place beside royalty, and possibly even fame. But anyone who lived within the rooms of Hollow Bastion was famous, for they were either the children of celebrated people or 'earned' it by taking hold with their bare hands. Such was Miss Terra, who was Lord Ansem's neice, Lady Kairi, his young daughter, or Locke Cole, the thief who was spared death to serve His Lord. 

But he.... he was just some lowly little child, Zack's pupil and squire. People commented on his abilities, but Cloud felt the praises were empty, that they were only spoken to make 'that poor boy' feel adequate. ...He'd never be worthy of the crowd that now began dispersing to whereabouts unknown. 

"Strife." 

Cloud's head snapped up, turning his interrupted attention towards the one person who would ever call him that. What greeted him was the smirking-- and amused-- face of Sephiroth. Short, silver hair wavered in strands behind him, but bangs identical to flopped rabbit ears framed his face. The blonde immediately grew cross. "Don't call me that. My name isn't 'Strife'." 

Aerith looked upset as well. "Really, Sephiroth, you shouldn't tease him like that. It's not proper." 

The older man just made a noise of disbelief, but remained smug all the same. "There are many things that aren't proper, Miss Aerith. Like you skipping out on riding lessons with Miss Garnet." 

A blush stained her cheeks and Aerith hopped down off the wall, excused herself hastily, and ran towards the chocobo pasture, but not before calling out, "I'll see you at dinner, Cloud!" 

All Cloud mustered was a weak wave in her direction; it didn't matter that she couldn't see it. 

"C'mon, Cloud," said Sephiroth curtly, rolling his right shoulder as though it ached. "It's time for your own lesson." 

* * *

"Oh, Ci~id! I'm a mage, not a mechanic!" whined Vivi Ornitier, sitting on the wing of the ship poutishly. He resembled nothing more than a child in raggy clothes. A mop of sandy-blonde hair covered his face and his eyes shone lime-yellow. "Why are you making me do a job that requires physical labor when I'm a hundred times better at magical labor??" 

Cid Highwind's face popped into view, startling Vivi. "You're also a hundred times more /mature/ when you're in Ansem's presense as his vizier," he stated. "Why does everyone else get your bratty attitude?" 

Insulted, Vivi huffed and threw his pointed hat back onto his head, casting his face in an opaque shadow. "For your information, I only expected you to make use of my gifts, not exploit my handicaps!" 

"And that's why your fussin', huh?" Cid looked ready to spit. "Me tryin' to make you into a man, an' you're complainin'. That's gratitude for yah." 

Vivi sniffed with indignance, jumping down to the floor with a squeak. "I said I'd help, but if you're gonna keep insulting me, you can find that help somewhere else!" 

Cid sighed, and watched the short mage start to walk away. "Oi, Vivi! Come back here. M'sorry!" 

Vivi turned around on his heels, arms folded over the front of his much-too-large blue coat. "Are you really sorry?" 

Cid rolled his eyes and began climbing down the ladder that propped itself up against the hull of the ship. "Yes, yes. I'm sorry. Do I need to twist my own arm to prove it?" 

"Well," drawled Vivi, "it would be more convincing if you did." 

Cid snorted. "You're killing me. ...If ya still wanna help, I'll put your 'talents' to use and not 'exploit your handicaps'." 

Vivi giggled, as he strolled on back. "You keep talking like that, and I'll get Edea to turn you into a toad." 

The blonde mechanic grimaced. "That's a talent I /am/ afraid of." 

* * *

He was always there, if not in his room or inside the chapel. Laguna Loire worried about him, after spending so much time together, side by side protecting Lord Ansem; Vincent Valentine was like a friend acting as a teacher to him, like a brother trying hard to be a father.. but those were the old days and now he was here, sitting on the railing of the great crest, looking out towards the waterfalls that half surrounded the lower part of the castle. 

No one feared him falling; he defied gravity with billowy, leather wings tucked torturously beneath his red cloak. He spoke nothing of them, and no one asked out of courtesy. They would have been forgotten, for he never revealed them to anyone and kept them carefully hidden, but the brazen claw on the man's left arm was a constant reminder that Vincent was no longer human. 

Ansem knew the story; so did Cid, Edea Kramer, Django, and Laguna himself. And they kept it secret, to themselves, harboring the greatest tragedy the assassin ever faced. 

"Stop hiding in the doorway, Laguna. I know you're there." 

Laguna didn't even flinch as he was called out and approached the guarding silently. "I saw Sephiroth sparring with Zack just now," he said, his voice hushed. "He's getting very good at the sword." 

Vincent didn't reply immediately. The way he remained a still as stone gave Laguna the impression of a wingless gargoyle, the prettiest he'd ever seen (compared to the ugly-as-hell ones). 

"It's starting to happen, Laguna." 

Laguna blinked. "Eh?" 

The raven-haired man turned to face Laguna, his eyes hard and guarding against the sorrow. "The last end of my sin is beginning to show on him... When he hits 30, it'll be fully mature and so will his hate for me." 

Laguna's eyes fell downcast, unable to stare into those blood-red eyes too much longer. "Zack told me that it's easy to hide under his trench so far, but.... I hear it's feathered, not like yours." 

Vincent nodded once. "Maybe I should be thankful for your brother, Laguna.... Sephiroth can depend on him." 

Laguna frowned. "Stop beating yourself up. ...It took a lot of courage to--... do what you did." 

The enigmatic man snorted in distain, the clawed hand digging tightly into the railing. His tone was thick with self-loathing. "It was a /coward's act/, Laguna. Don't confuse your own experience to mine." 

Laguna raised his head with a sigh. They had more in common than just the guns at their side. But before he could retort, the bell atop the tallest tower tolled for dinner. "...Are you coming, Vin?" 

Vincent shook his head. "No... I'm not hungry, but I might come down sooner or later." 

"Alright. ...Just don't waste away on us now." Laguna put a warm hand on Vincent's shoulder-- the red cloak shuddered under the touch; _The wings,_ Laguna assumed-- and a hesitant, human hand rested itself above it. 

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing." 

* * *

Lulu wasn't angry. 

Rinoa Heartilly was intent on showing up the older wizard, going out of her way to literally sabotage Lulu's spells and brews. And when Miss Edea's head was turned away from the pair, Rinoa had the habit of throwing her nasty glares and smirks. ...No, Lulu wasn't angry. Not at all. 

She was exceedingly pissed off. 

The raven-haired girl strolled briskly down the corridor to the dinning area, automatically and expertly evading several havoc-causing children-- she identified one as Reno-- that ran past her in the opposite direction of the hall. 

_Such foolishness. I can't see why Lord Ansem takes in so many orphans; all they do it get in the way and vandalize property. _

_But you're forgetting. ..You're one of those orphans yourself._ A twisted frown graced her delicate features, touched with a slight twitch in the corner. "How can I forget?" she muttered under her breath. "I'm constantly reminded." 

Inside the castle barriers, having no family name separated the important folk from the dirty street children found in the town churches and alleys. She could name many of them, such as Cloud, Marlene, Reno and Elena, herself.. _Someday, I'll prove I'm better than that lowlife angel-brat, that I'm better than a high-bred courtier. Mark my words, Rinoa. I will be a superior mage to your frivolous magicks._

The dinning hall was accommodated to seat every occupant that resided in the bowels of Hollow Bastion. It was grand and splendid, a craftman's dream and nightmare all the same. A giant, crystal chandalier tinkled in the center of the ceiling, encircled by six smaller ones; it bathed the entire room in a soft, golden-white light with the power of the cyberlights. The walls were decorated with slight arch-like buttresses and ionic columns not only braced up between the arches, they were posed also along the edges of the high tier, an uplifted area in the very center were the most honored lords and ladies sat. 

Half of Bastion's dwellers were already seated, and Lulu took solace at an empty table far from anyone else. She liked being alone, away from eyes who sought to stare at her.... With her cream-white complextion, cold eyes, dark hair, curvaceous body, and unique fashion wear, she'd become apart of the juvenile rumor mill. 

No, she wasn't a whore (her heavy make-up, her body, her tight clothing), a lesbian (her boyish attire, her many belts), a barbarian (her hairstyle, her anger), or a demon (her eyes, her sharp tongue, her hellish aura). She was only... Lulu. 

"Mind if I join you?" 

The voice was quiet, and muffled as though its owner was several tables away. But she looked up anyway, only to see the cursed dark knight of Bastion's walls at her side, asking for permission-- a hint of pink accented her pale cheeks. "Of-- of course. ..It's a free table." 

He nodded politely and sat a chair away from her and Lulu went back to looking around the hall. However, it wasn't due to boredom, this time around at least. ...Vincent Valentine was a mystery to everyone of the youngest generation. Even the bluntest, the craftiest of teens and children tried to pry the story from the older ones, but not a word was spilt. And they feared him for it, believing he had done something so wicked and terrible that his power alone held Lord Ansem at bay. 

...It couldn't be true. 

Beasts and monsters craved power; were Vincent like the horrible monster people assumed him to be, then wouldn't he be in Ansem's seat? But no, he kept to himself, and occasionally she heard his name in a casual conversation. And through the brief glimpses of the shadowy man, she'd gained a slight crush. ...An encounter like this was, without a doubt, priceless. 

Which is why she kept her eyes away from him. 

"Wouldn't you say it was rude for one to visibly ignore another who joined you for company?" 

Lulu cast him a shy side-glance. "It's also rude for one to stare, Sir Vincent. And either way, I would be insulting you." 

Vincent chuckled and gave her a wiry grin from behind the collar of his cloak; Lulu could just make it out. "Well Miss Lulu, that's very courteous logic, but I feel that it would do no good... I have this bad habit of associating with people in pain, but if I make you uncomfortable--" 

"Uh, no, no!" She turned wide, hazel eyes to face him in surprise. "It's.. just.... I'm sorry," she said, flushing in embarrassment. "I've been insensitive to many things lately....But I guess you knew that." 

"Indeed." 

More voices began to gather around them, ignoring and subconsciously avoiding the table where the angry teenager and almost invisible knight took refuge; they hardly minded. Supper was soon served by the moogles, holding platters and trays in their tiny paws. They offered all they had to every attendant, and waited patiently for the person to take however much they wanted. 

But not everyone was there, as the people soon realized when Squall and Yuffie ran howling in. The diners fell quiet as the two children hurriedly made their way to a table composed of other children. But they weren't worried about trouble. This act of tardiness was almost routine, as was the second act of the display. And as was expected, Locke stumbled in, beat red and short winded from the chase. The twist was Terra appeared behind him, a little tired herself. 

To the nobles, this was amusing. To the naive children, this was amusing. To the ones who were neither, this was heart breaking. 

They all chuckled and snickered, knowing this was a just punishment to the thief who thought he could steal from Hollow Bastion. Locke leaned up against the frame to the entrance, pushing the snide comments aside. He didn't want to hear them, didn't care. What he cared about now was Terra's soft hand on his shoulder... 

That's all that mattered to him-- 

"Serves you right, thief," said Seifer Almasy, the ten-year-old heir of Hyperion Keep, from his place between Rinoa Heartilly and Rufus Shinra. A smirk plastered itself onto his expression. "Hollow Bastion never let's criminals go unpunished, and humiliation is the worst one can endure." 

Locke opened him mouth to give the child a piece of his mind, but someone else beat him to it. From atop the tier, two seats away from the amused Lord Ansem and across from his brother, Zack had turned in his seat to look down at the dark-blonde noble. "Hey Almasy, eat your food and keep out of adult business like a toddler should." 

Sour-faced, Seifer grumbled something best not repeated and trained his eyes down to his plate, but grinned nastily when Rinoa whispered something into his ear. Zack, on the other hand, looked to Locke with laughing eyes. "But it /is/ kinna embarrassing, Locke. Every night, our prized monsters--" 

Insulted, Yuffie huffed and Squall glared. "Hey!" 

"--get the better of you." Zack waved his hand around, indicating an airy boredom. "You'd think a thief would be faster and craftier then a couple of scruffy mongrels who have nothing better to do than torment the populace. Oh wait." Zack grinned suddenly, fox-eyed and teasing. "That's why you were caught, weren'tcha?" 

And the hall laughed. Locke flushed, in shame and-- finally-- the very humiliation he fought against. Gently brushing Terra aside, the grey-blonde turned around and dragged himself down the corridor, defeated. The sounds of mirth haunted him, long after it died away from the echoes over stone. It was his own fault, yes, he knew that... and yet.... 

They never saw the tears that touched his cheeks. 

And from where she sat, Lulu watched Terra slowly climb the stairs of the tier in sympathy. 

* * *

"That was pretty low, little brother," stated Laguna, rising up to help Terra into her seat beside his own. "I never took you the type to verbally attack someone." All Zack did was wave him off, his spiked hair fraying as he cackled. "Aw, c'mon. Have some fun once in a while, 'Guna! I'll apologize to him later." 

"Immediately after dinner," said a light-hued brunette on Sephiroth's other side. "Under punishment or not, that boy still has it rough. Babysitting Squall and Yuffie has never been an easy job, even for Laguna." 

Zack leaned forward-- Sephiroth sat between him and her-- to look the woman in the eye. "Only for you, Beatrix." 

Beatrix Steiner rolled said eye and returned to her dinner. Zack, however, was not one to quit talking. And he blinked, gesturing to the two empty seats closest to Ansem; one also happened to be to his right. "Where's Kairi?" 

"In bed," replied Ansem absently, sweeping one of his dark locks behind an ear. "She wasn't feeling too well earlier, so Babasan took her to her room." 

Zack's nose wrinkled. "I'll have to go see her and cheer her up, then." 

"How?" asked Edea Kramer, a thin eyebrow raised in his direction. "By opening your mouth and watching all the pretty words fall out? Because that's all you seem to be good at these days." 

The majority of the table chuckled and Zack made a face at the elder mage. "Oh ha ha, very funny, Edee. See, that's what separates me from Mr. I'm-a-treasure-hunter Cole. /I/ can take a joke." 

Suddenly, Terra cast the young knight a harsh glare. "That wasn't a /joke/, Zack. You hurt him! It's bad enough he's the butt of every bad comment that runs around the castle, but you have wound his pride while you were at it! How would you like it if /you/ were the one down there being made fun of?!" 

The aristocrats on the tier all stared, silenced; even Ansem seemed a bit surpised. Terra Branford was one who never raised her voice... Zack blinked. And blinked again. He continued to do so, until he grinned again, watching her slyly with kitty lips and hands clasped together. "You have a crush on him, don't you?" 

From angry-red to caught-red-handed, Terra's facial expression changed instantly. She shook her head, but it was too late to deny anything, even as she stuttered, "N-no! Of course not!" 

"Ah, but you are a terrible liar, Miss Terra." Zack began to cackle again, until Sephiroth cuffed him upside the head without even sparing him a glance. 

Terra didn't speak for the rest of the meal. 

* * *

Dishes were being cleared away when it happened. People jumped in fright as the doors to the dining hall were thrown open, clashing against the metallic surface of the walls. Ansem and many others were out of their seats, hurrying to see who would dare disturb them all in such a way. 

Ansem narrowed his eyes at the intruder. "Seymour..." 

The master of Hollow Bastion had a right to be upset. Seymour Guado, a tall and pale man, had once been his vizier three years ago, before Ansem cast him out for trying to attack both him and Kairi. He was deemed mad and banished, but the uniquely-hairstyled man now returned.. "Lord Ansem, you must stop this!" 

"Huhh," snorted Ansem, turning his head away from Seymour rudely; the dark-haired man glared past the intruder. "Cait Sith! How did he get past the guards?!" 

From behind Seymor, a small, black and white cat appeared, running on his hind legs and short of breath. "Sir, he overpowered us! Came storming right in--" 

"Ansem, please!" Seymour stepped forward, making those closest to him step away in fear. "You're meddling in affairs that could destroy Spira! You must stop!" 

Ansem's expression twisted from annoyance to anger. "Whatever you speak of is nonsense, sir. Now, I advise you to get out of my home and back to the rock you crawled out of. The next time you ever show up here again, you will be thrown to the behemoth. This is your one warning." 

"And I'm telling you to terminate your reasearch of the darkness or I will terminate /you/. Come, Anima!" 

Anarchy ruled the hall. Human panic and terror pooled together to fuel the summoned creature's power, as they pressed themselves as far away from the madman as they could. The only exit was blocked, and they watched, in horror, as the ground before Seymour disappeared, and black whisps of evil seeped from the cracks. 

But as Seymour called forth his monster and those atop the tier either sough safety or to guard Ansem, Anima never made it to the physical plane. The sorceror's spell was interrupted by a flitting shadow that grabbed the front of his tattered robes and lifted him clear off the floor. Demon red eyes blazed into Seymour's light blue ones and the metal grip tightened; Seymour Dismissed Anima with a thought. Dead silence. 

Thin leather membrane rustled imposingly, stretched out from underneath the red cape; it only served to make Vincent more intimidating. But Seymour wasn't fooled... not much anyway. He shuddered in revulsion, but not at Vincent's appearance. "You follow him blindly, Valentine," he whispered between them. 

Vincent's snarl turned vicious, but kept his voice just as hushed. "I follow him /loyally/, something you never did, traitor." 

"You would be wise," he said, calm as though he knew Vincent wouldn't hurt him, "for you to at least know what your master is up to behind his library and laboratory doors. ..You don't frighten me Vincent.. because I no longer fear death." 

Vincent narrowed his eyes, but lost his ferocious edge. With a disgusted sound, Vincent tossed Seymour onto the floor of the corridor. They stared each other down, until Seymour got to his feet, brushed himself off, and started to walk down the hall with a manner of casualness. Eyes never leaving Seymour's back, Vincent mentally summoned the phantom beasts to his side. They, Nanaki and Django, appeared out of nowhere, manifesting from somewhere high above, and bound to the knight's side on swift paws. _"You called?" _

_'Escort' him out. If he does anything suspicious, you know what to do._

Jewelery clinked together as the felic-wolves did as they were commanded; Cait followed them as well as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. And Vincent turned back to his Lord, wings folding neatly beneath their cloak, and he bowed. "If you'll excuse me, sire, but I would like to retire." 

As his subjects began to slowly breathe easier, Ansem regarded Vincent's request with a rovering eye. The dark knight was shaken, invisibly so, but Ansem knew Vincent. Very well. "Of course. ....And thank you." 

"It's my duty." And Vincent left the same way Seymour and the felic-wolves did moments before, cautious eyes upon him. But three pairs wore different emotions then all the others: the dark eyes of his table-mate were saddened, but convinced now more than ever of his good intentions; the bright eyes of his blood seethed with betrayal, laced with an anger that lanced out to the dark knight; the light eyes of a friend weighed with the burden of weary self-blame, that this might be his fault. But it wasn't, and that made him feel even more guilty. 

But as for the rest of them, relief drowned the people, and the story mill once again began as though nothing had transpired that could have cost them their lives, and yet it's what they spoke of. They believed it was over, a sliver of chaos among the long roads of naive peace. 

How wrong they thought. 

* * *

I know, don't scream OOC. Considering that Kingdom Hearts has a very different FF world, I'm allowed to play with bloodlines, pasts, and personalities. And if you must know, this takes place between Ansem's Report 4 and 5. So, if you have those.. ^^; you'll know where you stand. 

*makes a face* And I didn't like how I did it. It was sloppily written and probably full of mistakes. Have to fix that soon. 'Course, x_T it only got worse with the discovery of Leon's real age. I hurt myself over it. 


	2. Antelogium Duæ

  
  
**Disclaimer**: Fluffy = Disney; sexy = Squaresoft. Know the difference. 

Now. *rubs her hands* Shounen-ai, right? ..Well, not 'til /much/ later. And it's only one couple really.. with another one-sided thing, but really, it's much, much later. Nothing to fear for now. 

However, there is one thing that bothers me... a lot. Someone who wanders the KH section takes too much for granted, especially with the connection between the FF characters and the FF games. He thinks to seem he knows everything, but here's a tip: it's been proven there's no real connection between the FF games and Cloud, Squall, etc. They all grew up in Hollow Bastion and Aerith /never/ died. Yeah, big shock, ain't it? ... I'm not gonna mention any names, but c'mon. You replay the game again and you'll see that they practically /tell/ you Kairi's from Hollow B, or where Yuffie (or was it Aerith?) says that Hollow Bastion was their home. 

And if you think I'm conceited, being so bold... *giggles* Phhbt, hardly. KH is a whole new ballgame, boys and girls; anything goes and the rules are far from what they once were, because it's fresh and new and very unsevered. You may now resume your regularly shehshualed program. =) 

* * *

{ Antelogium Duæ }

Locke Cole stalked around his small room, restless and confused. He was at a loss at what to do, tired, and above all-- his stomach growled without remorse, a dire reminder to how empty it was. Walking away from dinner, no matter how upset he'd been, was obviously the wrong move. A glance at his clock told him that meal-time was over and he fell bonelessly onto his small bed, face down in his flat feather pillow. What a way to end.. 

_She probably won't like me anymore,_ he thought. _Zack's probably got her mind riddled with lies and cruel things to say about me by now. She wouldn't love me, even if I was the last man on Gaea._

Yep, truly love-sick. 

He couldn't stay here anymore. Pushing himself back onto his feet, Locke grabbed his small duffle and started packing away his meager possessions from the shelves and closet; he had to leave before his conscience told him not to. _I don't care what they say, I've learned my lesson. I won't seek out a living that involves hunting for a price._

With his back turned towards the door, he didn't hear it open or someone stepping in until he was addressed. "Going on a trip, Locke?" 

The bag slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. The light-haired man swallowed and turned around, bowing his head as far as possible. "L-Lord Ansem, I... didn't hear you--" 

"I know." The ruby-eyed man leaned against the stone-rimmed doorframe, arms folded, and looking quite bored. "You plan to run from your problems, don't you?" 

Locke choked. It couldn't be possible that Ansem knew he'd come to this conclusion before Locke knew himself. And whatever was written on his face had to have given away his current disbelief, for Ansem shook his head slightly. "You've been here for nearly eight months and after countless tests of your endurance to shame, you finally broke. It wasn't hard to figure out." 

"S-sir," he stuttered, cheeks flushing pink. "I've... I've learn my lesson. Honestly I have." 

"And honest you are. I've decided to lift your sentence. You're free to leave Hollow Bastion." 

The words 'you're free' sent instant yet subtle tear pricks into Locke's eyes and they shined with joy. No more baby-sitting demon spawn, teasing behind his back. He can go back home and be an idol to his village... but Ansem wasn't done talking. 

"However, if you choose to, there's no coming back. You've served the time and now you move on. Never to look back, because it will hinder you.. and make you wonder if you left anything behind." Ansem shifted his weight, no longer supported by the wall. "..Will you leave something behind, if you walk out that gate?" Locke's face was the mask of a dunce, while his mind swarmed and trickled outwards like the tendrils of drifting mist. At the same time, he wanted to pound his poor, abused skull into the wall. Of course /he'd/ be leaving something behind! But would staying really be wise? Would it be worth it? "Um...I...." His mind worked overtime to produce an answer. "..Ssir, with all due, um, respect, I... don't know if I'll be.. l-leaving anything behind." 

Ansem's facical expression barely changed, but Locke could've sworn he looked slightly cross. "I see. ..I don't liked to be kept waiting, Locke, so unless you make your choice while I'm still in this room, I'll make it for you." Blazing eyes narrowed. "And I doubt it will be the fancied one, over all." 

Locke flinched; it didn't go unnoticed by the Lord of Hollow Bastion. Ansem made a hand gesture that reached out into the hallway and, to the treasure hunter's mortification, Terra stepped into view, a pink blush on her cheeks and a covered, silver tray in hand. 

Ansem really knew how to bring in the heavy artillery; life wasn't fair. Ever. 

Locke's face burst into flame and turned his gaze to the corner of the ceiling, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. He couldn't.... He just /couldn't/ say it! Couldn't look her in the face, couldn't proclaim the feelings he harbored deep inside. 

Especially with her /uncle/ in the same room. 

The man wanted to cry, to burst into undecisive tears and curse whichever god dictated his life until this very point, then drop to his knees and beg for a better choice, a third, so he didn't have to choose between home...and the woman who captured his schoolboy crushings. 

"I'm waiting." 

And Terra stepped up to him, placing the tray aside, and took his free hand between hers. Soulful, doe eyes refused to leave him and Locke's resolve began to crumble (_Why was I in the first place?_). 

"Locke. Please stay," she whispered. "Those things they say about you aren't true, you know. It was me you stumbled over back then, remember? That I reported you to Laguna and Vincent? ...I'm glad I did, because I never would have known how kind and selfless you were." 

For all the her words offered, only the tiniest sprig of himself wanted to go back home, but when the lightest, butterfly of a kiss touched his heated cheek, Locke almost swore it was his imagination. 

But it wasn't, and that one sprig was suddenly squashed into powered dust beneath a booted foot. Locke shot a hurried look at Ansem with wide, shocked eyes. "I'll stay." 

And that was that. 

* * *

"But Mistress," called Vivi, hurriedly trying to catch up with the long, docile strides of the woman he proudly called mentor, "surely neither are ready for such powerful devices. I implore you rethink your outlandish decision." 

Edea's pace never wavered and her voice was strong. "You may be Ansem's vizier, child, but hardly do you understand the grander scheme of things." 

"Mistress!" 

"It is not an insult, but a reminder." She reached the entrance to her small lair of the dungeon and made to push it open. "You are 15, Vivi; still very much a child. You are nary a year younger than Laguna's son and, as you know well, he continues to reap the joys of childhood along with his beloved cousin, Yuffie." 

Vivi's eyes grew dim in the dark, lost in thought. Just this afternoon, Cid was prepping him to become a 'man' and now, Edea was telling him he was still a child, a babe. ..He was very confused, suddenly. "But..but Mistress," he whispered, sounding a little lost and unsure, "I.. I don't think Rinoa or Lulu are prepared to learn the higher arts." 

"You're right, partially." The door swung open with a low, creaking noise. "Come in. I'll explain." 

It took a moment before the invitation sunk in and Vivi waddled inside, letting Edea close the door behind him and climbed up into his favorite highstool by the cauldron fire. Edea bolted the door once, to ensure privacy from the few who entered before knocking, and sat down across from Vivi, amber-gold eyes flickering. "Rinoa... Yes, she is not ready. She will have no use for any of the more powerful spells I can teach, for in my heart I believe she will only need the ones I had taught her now in abundance. For what, I am not sure. 

"Lulu, however, is at a very prime age to teach. Without Quistis constantly around, her emotions are growing still, and can concentrate even more." 

Vivi blinked, washed over in a new kind of sadness. "That is upsetting, Mistress, for humans to have to go through something so extreme as to lock their feelings away to perform incantations. ...I want to cry," he said in a peculiar tone, "but I can't seem to. I know I can. ..But I can't." 

Edea gave a light, half-empty smile. "It's alright. It's not necessary to cry for others, Vivi. I feel the same way as you do, right now, but it will pass. ...It always passes." 

* * *

"Kairi!" 

The small, 5-year-old brunette looked up from her picture book to her doorway, watching brightly as a small, sandy-blonde boy came charging in with all smiles. Tidus scampered and jumped around, trying to find a way into the bed that came up to his nose. Kairi laughed at all the attempts and finally helped him up, Tidus appreciating it in every way. He sat on his knees beside her and began to let his mouth run. "Hi Kairi! I heard you were sick, are you okay?" 

Kairi giggled and closed her book. "I'm fine, silly-billy. Babasan says I have a bug." 

Tidus' stared at her, hard, like it was the most amazing thing he's ever heard. "You have a bug? Where? Did it go up your nose?" 

Kairi laughed and battered the boy with her book for being gross, just as Zack appeared, his arms full of Yuffie, Selphie, and Marlene, with Wakka trailing right behind his leg. "Hey, hey!" he said, spotting the very un-princessy display. "I know he's a bit of a dirty kid, but you don't don't have to /bludgeon/ him to death." 

Being that they were all 7 and under, the whole pack of them squealed in delight, just because the word 'bludgeon' sounded ridiculous in their tiny minds. Zack set the threesome on the bed beside their rat-pack brother and took a seat in a chair beside them all, babysitting them as they each talked animately about what happened at dinner: Locke, the man with strange hair, Vincent, and the ice cream that'd been dessert. Of course, you couldn't make one one thing they were trying to tell you, but it was the enthusiasm that counted. 

"Oh my stars, what's going on here??" 

Seven heads turned to see Babasan standing in the door, shocked of anything from all the children gathered around her dearest Lady. Before anyone could say anything-- all the kids looked too guilty to speak anyhow-- Zack smiled at the elderly woman. "I'm sorry, Grandma, I really should've been able to handle them, but toodlers are /trickly/, I'm telling you. Those three," he motioned to Marlene, Selphie, and Yuffie, "jumped me. It was an unfair fight, three against one. I couldn't win. And /this/ one," Zack pointed accusingly at Tidus, "he put a leash around my neck and /dragged/ me here, saying if I didn't, I wouldn't get my after-lunch cookies! The horror!" 

He stood up and moved around to the other side of the bed to kneel before Wakka and tickle him. "And this one had my back, carrying an /ax/, saying if I didn't go with them, I'd be beheaded at dawn! Then I definitely wouldn't get my cookies. Ah, but it was this one!" He stopped his assault and seemed to pounce on Kairi, stooping her up out of bed and into the crook of his arms. "She's the ring-leader. Orchestrated the /entire/ thing from her room. Amazing, isn't it?" 

While the children stiffled their gasps and laughter with grubby hands, Babasan only looked the slightest amused; the rest of her was exasperation. She had known many of the people who lived in the castle since childhood and Zack was no exception. Always telling wild tales that made no sense, just to entertain others his own age. ..His mental age, anyway. "If you're their hostage, then I don't think you should be carting around their princess too much longer." 

With much thought, Zack looked down to Kairi. She was still smiling happily, but it was also weary. He took the liberty of touching his knuckles to the girl's forehead and found the new beginnings to a fever. "Well," he whispered to the girl, "I think I'll let your friends wear you out a bit, okay? I have to talk to Babasan real quick, then I'll come kiss you goodnight and take the others to bed." 

"Alright," she said back and Zack returned her to the center of the small crowd, where they now continued to talk. With a gesture, Zack led Babasan out into the hallway, a look of worry and utter seriousness in his eyes. Babasan frowned. "What's wrong?" 

"We had a problem this evening." And the knight went about retelling the tale, all the while Babasan growing more afraid. She'd known Seymour too. A quiet teenager, a solomn young man, it had shocked her that day those few years ago when he snapped... Just one more tragedy under the roof of Hollow Bastion. 

"I'm a little concerned he may try and hurt Kairi again, so I'll be checking up on her more. Maybe even move to a temporary room across the hall." 

"...Ye-- yes. Yes, of course." She gripped the front of her dress and the small necklace in a time-seen hand. "I'll make sure to tell you or your brother if I see anything strange." 

"Thanks Grandma. ...You won't tell Kairi, right?" 

She smiled, albeit emptily. "I can't give her a reason to worry. She's still just a child, after all." 

The grin that returned was genuine. "What would we ever do without you?" 

She didn't reply and Zack escorted her back into Kairi's room, where the dark-haired man made well on his promise to bid the princess goodnight and herded the rugrats to their own beds for a good night's sleep. 

* * *

Squall stared hard, mouth agape, brely able to swallow the news his own father dropped onto his shoulders. Beside him, both Cloud and Aerith stiffled their chuckles. Sir Laguna had just delivered the worst news a son could ever hear... 

"/I/ have to take care of Yuffie?!" 

...and was giving said son an odd look of annoyance. "You practically take care of her every day. What's the problem?" 

"What about Locke?! Isn't he supposed to be 'looking over us'??" 

"Ansem's informed me that his sentence is over, so that leaves you in charge now." 

"But--!" 

Laguna's eyes narrowed. "Squall!" 

Squall flinched ever so slightly at the sharp tone, not harsh but commanding. Laguna continued. "You are 16, old enough to take care of yourself /and/ others. The only reason I suggested Locke keep an eye out for the both of you was because I was convinced you were still too immature for responsibility. That hasn't changed at all, but it was a mistake ever coddling you. Right now, you couldn't take care of a pet rock, let alone Yuffie. But you're going to start tomorrow, since I refuse to let my own flesh and blood treat their life like a joke." 

The boy snorted, tossing his head up with an amused smirk and an air of superiority. "Oh please, Dad. Uncle Zack acts more immature that I do. Why don't you go tell /him/ that pretty little speech; I'm sure he needs it." 

"He knows when it's time to fool around and when to fulfill his duties." Laguna poked him roughly in the shoulder, causing the boy to step back and catch his balance. "But all you've seen is him acting like a child half your age and /that's/ been your favorite rolemodel; after all, I'm not the one you look up to, am I?" 

Squall pursed his lips together, thinning them into near-nothing. He didn't reply, except after he turned to face away, grumbling; Laguna definitely heard the words 'Yuffie' and 'watch' in there. A general agreement and the knight bid the trio goodnight. When he was gone around the corner, Squall made a sound of disgust and threw up his arms. "Why me?" 

From his left, Aerith playfully elbowed the dark-haired boy's side. "Someone's life of lounging and self-entertainment just flew out the window." 

From his right, Cloud gave him one of Zack's all-knowing-cooey faces. "Just think of all the /grown-up/ things our dear Squall has to do now! Soon, he'll be dating and doing laundry and mowing the lawn!" 

Squall hissed at both of them and about-faced, stalking down the rest of the corridor to his room, visibly upset over the burden his father set carelessly (in his opinion) on his shoulders and the jibes from the two brats he called friends. Needless to say, Aerith and Cloud followed him like puppies who wouldn't take a hint, whispering just loud enough for Squall to hear and giggling every time he shot them scathing glares. 

* * *

The next day brought a fresh air into the mighty castle. The odd tension from last night's events had seeped away through warm beds and pleasent dreams, leaving yesterday as only a distant memory. Seymour's reappearance, despite how terrifying it'd been, was no longer real and was all but forgotten by most, except for the oldest adults... 

"Hah! Die, you stupid freak!" 

...and the children with active imaginations. As it now stood, Seifer remained poised in a final thrusting stance, holding his favorite imaginary blade embedded in his new imaginary opponent. ..He'd been 9 when he last saw the strange man, not old enough to be able to hold a decent memory. But Seymour's face was fresh now, and the strawberry-blonde took full advantage of it. 

He was alone today, nothing he minded. In his eyes, Rinoa and Rufus sometimes acted too weird for his tastes and were dead weight in the long-run...but they were his friends. _Even if they are older than me._ They thought alike, agreed more often than not, and tended to generally stick together, as courtiers should. But both Rin and Rufus were beginning to grow up, something Seifer was a few years away from, and soon might ditch him for older company. 

_I'll just ditch them first. Find other friends. It can't be that hard, can it?_

Probably. There weren't many lone people around Hollow Bastion, especially his age. To be friends, or even plain associates with anyone in the manor meant you had to befriend their current group, which went from two to six more people. And no one else really fit his bill. 

There was Squall's little gang, when the latter and Yuffie weren't performing solo acts of insanity. They weren't the tightest, but they stood out well enough. Squall, the son of a knight whose family ran for generations as Hollow Bastion's protectors. Yuffie, the orphan daughter of Raine Loire's sister and adopted by her aunt's husband. Aerith, the Cetra daughter of Joseph and Ifalna Gast who took her mother's maiden name. And Cloud, the street-urchin-turned-pupil. 

Kairi had all sorts of playmates from ages 4 to 8, mostly new orphans whom Ansem seemed to be awfully generous to for the last several years. A few would come in, a few would leave, sent off to foster parents by Ansem himself. They tended to group together; strength in numbers, Seifer assumed. 

Heck, even Lulu had her own tiny circle, consisting of Quistis and Rikku Trepe, Rufus' older and younger half-sisters, but they were only around annually. ...Seifer's lip curled as he high-kicked the air. _His stupid father is such a cheat. I wouldn't be surprised if he had other kids besides them._

No... No one stayed alone. Brought together by Hollow Bastion itself, you had to trust the ones you shared a roof with, or force to drift away in isolation. 

Like Vincent Valentine. 

Seifer spat. He didn't like Vincent very much, would never admit that the stories of him being Hades' hell-servant shook him up some, that the wings he got his first glimpse of last night sent cold shivers down his spine. No, he'd never admit it and would only work to fight such a thing, be that the rumors were true and Ansem's personal guard was truly a demon-beast in the guise of a man. ..He'd fight. He'd fight when.../if/ it was time to do battle with him. 

He'd fight. With, or without, friends. 

* * *

**they were so different**

He had a way to him that made even the grass part for his approach, a natural repellent meant to keep invading, curious noses out of his business. He was cool, chilling, illusive, untouchable, unbreakable, indifferent, neutral, a watcher. 

So why did it all change whenever one person simply /smiled/ at him? 

Sephiroth pursed his lips harder. For the first time in years, he was alone; he'd left Zack entertaining Kairi to walk around the garden atrium in the far back of the hall. And being alone only made him think 'Why?' 

Zack had a special gift to him, something that exuded attractions of all kinds. He made children happy, adult troubles melt away, hearts mend, and pain subside, all with genuine feelings. Truly, the man was a god-send; it wasn't possible to hate him-- okay, maybe Locke, but no one else. ..When the young Loire brother said something, he meant it. 

**so different**

So he teased people; he doesn't mean to hurt them. So he was stubborn; he only feels strongly about his argument. He was still just Zack, their personal Peter Pan who had a heart of gold and not an ounce of malice in his bones. 

Sephiroth stopped in his tracks and folded his arms limply, looking at the ground in idle thought. His shoulderblade was itching again, but it was easily remedied with a quick rub-up against his jacket. As he did so, the silver-haired man scowled to himself. /That/ was another thing. 

Confined beneath leather was an extra appendage, a mark of sorts to whatever black magic woven on the day of his birth. A single wing, black as the emptiest void and feathered as crazily as Phoenix, Goddess of Granted Wishes. But at the rate it was growing, it may not fit behind anything after a few more years, save the kind of cloak his abominal father wore. 

**different untolerable set in stone fly**

He shook his head and started walking again, passing under an iife tree as its leaves fell daintily to the floor. When the time came, he wouldn't hide it. If it made for a constant reminder to Vincent of the crime he committed, he'd gladly show it off, just to spite the older man's sacrifice to save a child, but not the mother. 

Lucrecia... 

* * *

With the quietness of a wildcat, Ansem pressed open the door to his laboratory and bolted it tightly behind him. A precaution always taken, for whom would he want to accidentally stumble into his lair? No one with a mouth to blab, that was for sure. 

In a corridor from the chapel, did it dwell quietly, hiding Ansem's worst secrets and greatest discoveries. He did it all for the greater good, knowing these experiments would one day save his world from a threat they knew nothing about. 

Through the short anteroom, he kept his piles of unkempt notes on desks and cabinets. Scribblings, really, about his latest observations. To him, there was some sort of order to it all, but to anyone else, it was a plain nightmare. Up a set of mirrored stairs that surrounded the tier and past exposed pipes and wire bundles lazily tacted to the sides, a messed uncontrolled, but remained clean. And atop the tier, Ansem found his newest test subject. 

A common boy lay motionless on the slanted table, drawn into sleep only several hours ago. His fire-orange hair, wild, long, and tied back with a single piece of cloth, was plastered to his pale skin from heavy sweat and water, from when Ansem had lain a towelette across his forehead. His breath was shallow and somewhat uneven, but the lord had come to expect it. 

Ramza, he remembered, was his name. Ansem caressed the fevered cheek with a mother's touch, saddened to cause the boy harm...but it must be done. For the last two years, he'd been following the same precedures over and over again, in different types of people he'd found beyond the castle walls and even in some of the orphans. Anything to figure out how the Heartless operated... 

He'd already sealed off the lower catacombs from the Hollow's residents, now that his failures-- and successes-- resided in the dark shadows of the dungeon. Now, there came the sacrifices. 

Ramza wasn't one to be offered to further his studies on the Heartless. No, the child was his last cultivation; only this time, he had used a different method, which spanned over a month and a half of work. He'd learned that the Heartless used a special ability, to shove themselves into the astral spirit of a human and draw out their lifeforce, their souls, their hearts. Pure hearts, corrupted hearts, they consumed it all... 

Could /he/ do such a thing? 

The boy stirred, but didn't waken. Ansem gave Ramza a once-over, before strolling to the machines against the guardrail. A monitor's light was soundlessly flickering and Ansem knew /it/ was ready. 

The heart inside the child's breast was a strong one; vibrant, young, courageous, kind.. but he was not without temptation to sin. Ramza had a dangerous love, that love locked away in a dark corner, far from all else. An incestuous love, for his younger brother Gau. Instead of spreading it like fire or taking it away-- only to introduce it later full-blown-- Ansem grew it. 

He grew the darkness that he found, luring it out and only making it worse for Ramza. The boy figuratively suffocated on it, not used to the darkness but adapting. He fueled that fire by hating himself.. 

This would be the last day to see if the heart would collapse in on itself when confined to one place, under emotional pressure, being fed untruths, once Ramza awakened. To see if life can do naturally what he has done manually. 

* * *

To answer RyukiData's question: I'm a tight planner, which means that every scene I write contributes to what will happen in future chapters. And those chapters will also lead /through/ the game and even beyond it. So.. I will soon be focusing a lot on the survivors, but I need the build-up and /everyone/ in the story throws in bits and pieces of that. :D So yah! I'll get to them! Just as soon as Ansem's lid flips. 

*itchy hands* I need my game back. 

It's practically impossible to write this story, without feeling you aren't doing justice to what Square and Disney set down in characterization, or even general characterization from past games. But the next chapter with be just that: an actual chapter and not a filler to help you step into some of the minds of the players. ...Hopefully. *really wants to get to the later chapters* *evil grin* Someone's going to die~ie. 

Self-endorsement: go read Sentinal Trinity by me? Please? It's really lonely. ... *bleh, in all the fics I've ever done, this is my first real advertisement* ..... It doesn't suit me. 


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